Trying to
by Zhiole
Summary: AN: Fourth chapter now available. Warnings: Describtion of Sex, Slash, Het, Incest, Crying, Sadness. Rating: NC17 or M Pairing: EragonMurtagh. Short summery: Eragon and Murtagh love each other without knowing it. Will they get happy?
1. Chapter 1

Title: Trying to forget (Trying To...-Triology, 1/3)

Author: Zhiole

Disclaimer: Not mine. I only own the simple plot and the idea of this FF, but not the novels nor the characters. And I do not make money with this, of course.

Pairing: Onesided Murtagh/Eragon, mentioned Murtagh/multiple persons

Warning: Mentions of sex (hetero- and homosexual), mentioned (wish to perform) incest ( -this only if Murtagh and Eragon are really brothers! I heard too many speculations to be sure...)

Rating: PR-13/K or NC-17/M (I'm not sure...)

Short summery: Murtagh tries to forget.

Murtagh tries to forget. And he best forgets when he's having sex, preferably with men. Of course, Murtagh likes women as much as men. Their curvy build, with rounded hips, a thin middle and soft breasts, long and even softer hair, writhing under him and shamelessly begging him to take them. He enjoys to do so and to loose himself within them.

But lately, something goes terribly wrong. Once, he had been with a young, beautiful chick, about 18 years old (give or take about 2 years). She had long, golden hair, shining green eyes, full lips and a very curvy body. And after they had met at a little party, chatted, drinked and laughed together, he had taken her to his chambers. There, he had stripped her down within a few seconds and taken her from every direction possible.

But, when they were doing the „dog style", how it was called, and he came inside her, he said a wrong name. And name that was no way female. The girl hadn't taken it very well, she had slapped him a few times, had started screaming and raging until Murtagh had hid behind his pillow. Then, she had dressed and sat down next to him, on the bed.

„Who is he? Would you tell me?" she had ordered him. It was absolutely no request, it was a command. He had told her, leaving a few – and important - parts away. She had just sighed and then nodded. „Maybe you should go for men instead always doing it with women. Even after there are enough in this place for you to be busy for another year or so. But when this happens more often, you won't find anyone anymore to live your fantasies with." she said.

Then, she got up again, kissed him softly on the lips, and went to the door. „If you need an advice, you'll find me. And I'll help you." she told him before she left.

The next night, he had been with a man for the first time.

He had expierenced what it might be for a girl having sex, lying on his back and being taken carefully and slowly, almost too slow for his liking. But he had enjoyed it. And he forgot about the night before.

But after a few months and some very unique „experiments" with his „partners", he woke up in his newest mate's bed, having a hard-on from a very twisted dream. About HIM again. Who was the cause for his interrupted night with the blonde girl. He had taken his half-awake partner with a force he didn't know from himself, desperate and brutal, but he didn't care, as long as he forgot. After that, his partner had needed some time to speak up again. „What kind of dream did you have to make you this dominant, man?" Murtagh had told him. He somehow knew his mate would understand. „This is a little freaky, man, but if it makes you this wild, you should dream about this Eragon more often. What does he look like? As you or different?"

Murtagh just wanted to forget. But he couldn't. Everytime he closed his eyes, blue orbs shone in bright sunlight. When he slept, he would mirror a smile he dreamt of, a smile of full lips. He would take his mates with so much passion because he wanted to imagine golden locks swining with his trusts. And when he came, he always had to bite his lip, to keep himself from moaning this simple name.

„No, he's nothing like me. He's all that I am not able to be anymore."


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Trying to Hide (Trying to...-Triology, 2/3)  
Author: Zhiole  
Fandom: Eragon/Inheritance  
Disclaimer: Not mine, I make no money with it.  
Pairing: one-sided (?) Eragon/Murtagh  
Warning: Slash, M/M-Raltionship, Adult Themes, Incest (?)  
Rating: PR-13 to NC-17  
Author's note: Sequel to Trying to Forget. Written from Eragon's POV.

It was stormy, outside of the Quarters of the Varden. It had rained all day long, so the ground was all wet and slippery. The few kids here enjoyed playing out of the quarters, in the mud and in the rain. Eragon heard them screaming and laughing, and when he looked out of the windows he always saw them throwing mud and dirt at each other. And when they came back in, their parents would rage about them, having ruined their clothing or the cleaned floor.

Most of the time, Eragon smiled while hearing the laughters, even if it was very late and he wanted to sleep. But it gave him a feeling, a feeling of having a home, of having a family. Sometimes, the kids even played „Eragon and Saphira", and new role-playing game. And the little boys always fought out who would be able to play Eragon, and who had to be the evil Dulza, the strong Ajihad and the (ex-)prisoner with the bow, Murtagh.

But from time to time, Eragon also cried when he heard the children playing, mostly when he heard them talking about their parents. He had no mother. He would never have, he would never see her again. He had no real family, because even 'at home', where he lived with Roran and his uncle, didn't exist anymore. It had been destroyed, his uncle had been killed, Roran had gone to someplace he wouldn't find him. Where noone would find him.

When he was crying, Eragon was hiding in his private chambers, which he had gotten after the fight. He would lie in his bed and cry silently, wishing anyone would stand by his side, holding his hand and telling him everything would be alright. Saphira tried to calm him, and he felt how much he hurt her by closing his mind and shutting her out. But she wouldn't understand, she simply couldn't. And not even Arya or anyone of the Varden would.

His uncle would. But he was dead.

Roran would. But he had left him alone.

Brom would. But he had also died, trying to protect him.

And surely Murtagh would. But Murtagh didn't care.

At the first time Eragon realised Murtagh didn't care, he had cried even harder, crying a whole night and not knowing why. He didn't even know why he could or should trust the raven-haired. There wasn't any rational explaination. Nothing. Just some connection, which he couldn't put a finger on. Even after only he seemed to sense it.

Eragon had tried to build this connection up, to create a friendship or something else that is based on trust. But Murtagh hadn't any time. It seemed like he was always busy, sometimes to go hunting, sometimes to lock in his chambers, and sometimes to lie on his back in a bed or sit on the lap of someone from the Varden, being fucked or fucking someone. And Eragon didn't use the word with f very often, regulary he would say „sleeping with someone", but what Murtagh did couldn't be described with that words anymore.

Murtagh had spent so much time in his affairs/relationships/one-night-stands/etc that Eragon gave up soon. It just didn't work, he couldn't look Murtagh in the eye after he saw him with a brown-haired, about 22 years old man, doing it outside the quarters, hidden behind trees and rock. Eragon saw them anyways, and it somewhat crushed him. It broke him.

He hadn't realised what was the cause for this intense feelings toward the raven-haired man for a long time. It wasn't the lack of trust, he had somewhat learned to be betrayed and being careful with who he said what. No, it was something different. And when he laid awake another night, crying and not knowing why, he heard the soft voice of Saphira in his head, and while she talked to him, he realised why he was so jealous...and it made him cry even harder;

„Little One, don't hide your misery from me anymore. Don't hide that everytime you see him, your heart starts pounding wildly and you feel so weak. I can feel it. And don't try to hide that when you see how they look at him, you feel something like hate or jealousy inside you, because I can feel that too. And don't try to hide that when you saw him with someone else, it almost broke your heart and made you feel alone. Because I can see it. It's in your eyes, and you can't hide it from me. Because I know you."


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Trying to Fly (Trying to...-Triology, Part 3)

Author: Zhiole  
Disclaimer: Not mine, I make no money with it.  
Fandom: Eragon/Inheritance  
Language: English  
Pairing: Eragon/Murtagh  
Rating: PR  
Warnings: Slash, M/M-Relationship, Incest, Tears, Hurt/Comfort (sort of)  
Author's note: Written in a Third-Person-POV.Short summery: Sequel to „Trying to Forget" and „Trying to Hide". It isn't that necessary to read them, but it makes this part more understandable.

The days after Saphira's speach, Eragon had become even more silent than he already became in the past weeks. This laughing sounded cold, and a smile didn't reach his eyes anymore. But still, he was able to trick a few people, who believed him when he said he was alright, and those who didn't believe him would see him throwing a strange kind of look at them, as if saying „leave it, I'm strong enough for it". But he wasn't, and Saphira was also able to feel it, too. She got ill after two weeks, lying in on the ground and sleeping the whole day and night.

The children tried to make her play with them, a dragon was something that couldn't be seen every day, after all. But Saphira just shook her gigant head and closed her eyes again. The children ran to Eragon, asking him what was wrong with their dear Saphira. And Eragon lied and said he didn't know. He hated causing the sickness of his dragon and making her pay for a pain that wasn't her fault. He knew he should forget about Murtagh and concentrate on other things. But it wasn't possible.

And so, he curled up in his bed every night, feeling alone, sometimes even crying softly.

So it was nothing special anymore when one evening, he came into his room, throwing his shoes in a corner, falling on the bed and letting the tears cover his cheeks again. He had seen Murtagh again, with a man that wasn't him, never would be, kissing and moaning and going at it out of the quarters. It made him want to vomit, he hated Murtagh for doing this to him and himself for wanting a man that did such stupid things.

While lying there, staring at the ceiling and letting the tears run and wet his pillow, he didn't notice how loud the few sobs became, and that someone stoped in front of his door while hearing them. It was Murtagh, who had just showered and already wore only a black linen shirt, black linen trousers and his shoes. When he heard the sounds Eragon was making, he stoped his walk and listened. It sounded pained, and he steped into the room.

„Eragon?" said one raised his head in shock. He saw Murtagh standing in his room, frowning and staring at the blonde. „Is everything alright? Why are you crying?" he asked. Eragon sat up and raised his arms in Murtagh's direction, spreading the fingers. Lips quivering. It was a silent question, a plea for Murtagh to come and hold him. Murtagh went to the person he wanted to be protected from all that was bad and being happy more than everything else, closing his arms around him and holding him, while Eragon clinged onto him, as if he would drown in an invisible lake without the raven-haired. They stayed a while in this position, Murtagh slowly rocking Eragon back and forth to calm him a little. After what seemed like hours, the blonde spoke up.

„I wish I hadn't become a dragonrider. I can't handle that, it's too much for me..." Eragon said, looking at Murtagh, the eyes red and puffy from crying. He didn't know if he meant his mission or his obsession for the raven-haired with the last sentence. „I wish you were the one who has to fight Galbatorix. The weight of being what I am is so great, and your shoulders are so much broader than mine. You could carry it better than me." Eragon said, leaving Murtagh helpless and stunned.

„Eragon..." he said, snuggling the poor blonde closer to him again. „I think you don't know how broad your shoulders really are. And how small mine seem to be." he whispered. Eragon's face wore an expression that clearly said „What do you mean?". But Murtagh didn't explain, he just held Eragon, stroking his back, until the boy went rigid in his arms and dozed of.

Murtagh brought them both in a comfortable position, Murtagh lying on his back and Eragon snuggled to his side, his head resting on his chest. Murtagh was able to hear his own heartbeat thundering through the room, which seemed quiet and somewhat dark. When he looked outside the window, the sun just began sink down towards the horizon. Fascinated, the raven-haired stared at the spectacle, while gold turned to yellow, orange, pink, purple, blue, black. Clouds and birds appeared and disappeard, giving the whole event some accents. And finally, the stars appeared at the sky, sparkling like crystals. Or like tears.

Instinctively, Murtagh pulled the blonde a little bit more into his embrace, kissing him on his head and breathing in his scent. He smelled sweet, like spring. Like flowers and honey, like sun and nature, like sugar and love. It was delicate, in Murtagh's oppinion, because there was also a hint of wilderness. Bitter-sweet.

And while more and more stars appeared on the sky, and the first lamps were enlightend, the raven-haired's mind came to rest and his eyes closed.

When Murtagh woke up again, it was somewhere between late night or very early moring. The moon was hidden behind clouds and it was very dark in the room. After finding a candle, Murtagh magically enlighted it. The small flame gave the room a calming atmosphere.

While watching the candle burn down slowly, the raven-haired thought about what to do with Eragon. He never had such a break-down before, and Murtagh felt more helpless than when he fought against Galbatorix' army in the prison, when Eragon had freed Arya. He would love to fight again hundrets of warriors, instead of seeing Eragon be that weak and depressive.

Murtagh was so concentrated on his thoughts that a small frown appeared between his brows. He also didn't notice when Eragon opened his eyes again, blinked slowly, and smiled softly while breathing slowly. He finally was where he wanted to be, in Murtagh's arms. Murtagh holded him, stayed with him while he slept, and made no intention in leaving him. It almost felt like they were together. A couple.

Eragon sighed softly at that thought, and that sound finally pried the raven-haired out of his thoughts. He looked at Eragon, smiled, and brushed some sleep from the blonde's eyes. „Slept well, my friend?" he asked. Eragon nodded and sat up slowly, Murtagh doing the same. „Why have you been so down, Eragon? Is it really that hard for you?" he asked. Eragon could have done it the easy way, by lying and saying yes, but instead he shook his head. „No. There is something more." he whispered, not daring to look at the questioning eyes of the older boy.

„What is it, then?" Eragon was silent for a few seconds, before stuttering „Well...it's...I don't know how to say this, it's just...well...er...I like somebody. I mean really like, not like friends...like something more, I can't put a finger on it...it's so complicated...I...I just don't know...how to tell it the person...might not take it well..." he babbled, his words becoming quieter and it seemed like his mouth ran away with him. The raven-haired put a finger on Eragon's mouth, silencing him. „How is it?" he asked, smiling. It hurt him that Eragon liked someone who wouldn't notice that, and who probably wouldn't love him back.

Eragon gulped and looked at Murtagh, the eyes clear and shining in the light of the candle. And something snapped within the raven-haired. He had to take his chance now, before Eragon would tell him. Before Eragon would tell he loved Arya or Nasuada or another girl he didn't know about. He had to show Eragon who really cared for him, and covered Eragon's cheeks with his palms, holding the boy still. But, before he could more, he heard a small whisper, so quiet he wasn't sure if he heard it. „It's you..."

His heart almost stopped at this. And then, he felt even braver than before.

Carefully - he didn't want to scare the blonde away -, Murtagh lowered his head, until his and the blonde's nose almost touched. They stared each other in the eyes, while their lips only touching slightly, only tipping, probing, not really touching at all. Electric shocks went through their bodys at those first contact, their eyelids fluttered, and Murtagh moaned quietly, almost inaudiable.

But suddenly, Eragon shoved the raven-haired away. „I'm not going to be a fool for you!" he said angrily. Murtagh stared at him. „What do you mean by that? Why should you be a fool?!" the raven-haired demanded to know, his voice controlled and slightly vibrating. Eragons eyes went to slits. „You know what I mean. I'm not going to be one of your one-night-stands, I'll not become your whore!" he whispered. The moan of the raven-haired had made him remember when he saw the older boy and the unknown, brownhaired man together. Murtaghs eyes went wide. „I...Eragon, I...that's not what I have in mind...I mean...you...I...I did it because I couldn't have you...you seemed uninterested, what else should I have done?"

Eragon got up, took a few steps backwards, turned around and went to the door of his room while saying „I don't believe you. And even if it's true, you could have slept with a few less persons at least. And not in front of my eyes." But before he came very far, he felt arms closing around his chest and holding him. „I didn't mean it..." Murtagh said, sadness and desperation in his voice. It made him sick that his life-style now seemed to ruin the chance, the opportunity he had finally gotten.

„Murtagh, let me go!" Eragon said, struggling to get free. After he had no access and Murtagh holded him even tighter, he even kicked the tried to bite the raven-haired. And when that didn't help, he started crying and screaming, harder than ever.

„LET ME GO, MURTAGH, YOU HURT ME ENOUGH! STOP IT, LET ME GO PLEASE, MURTAGH, LET ME GO!" „I can't do that, Eragon. Call me selfish, but I can't let you go." the raven-haired answered, pressing a soft kiss on Eragon's check, who sobbed hard. His upper lip quivered while tried one last time to escape. Then he went riggid, as if his body had no more bones. Murtagh carried him to his bed, laid him down, stripped him except his trousers, stripped himself down to his trousers and laid down next to the blonde.

The raven-haired put the covers around them and holded Eragon against his chest. The sobbing had subsided a little, it almost seemed like Eragon was too tired to fight anymore. Murtagh kissed his forehead and stared at Eragon. „I don't want you for a lonely night, Eragon. And not for a few lonely nights. I want you to stand by my side when I fight, I want you to go hunting with me, to laugh with me, to stay with me for our whole lives. I want you forever." Murtagh whispered. And after this endless, emotional rollercoaster, Eragon was spent. And started trusting the raven-haired.

The blonde reached forward and gripped Murtagh's head while parting his lips slightly. And just a second later, their lips rested on each other. At first, both had their eyes open, staring at each other and not moving. Then, they closed them slowly, while their lips started moving against each other. Slow became fast, soft became hard, tongue-less became a kiss with tongue, and finally they were tangled in each other, clinging on the other one's body and kissing hungrily, as if they would loose each other after the kiss.

And while kissing for the first time, Eragon's trust towards Murtagh builded up. He didn't have to hide anymore. And Murtagh felt free to moan for the first time, because he hadn't to moan to somebody who wasn't Eragon, and he didn't have to forget. They were free. They felt like flying.

End (or not? Does anyone want more chapters?) 


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Trying to Think (Part 4 of the Trying to...-Series)  
Author: Zhiole  
Disclaimer: Not mine, I make no money with it.  
Fandom: Eragon/Inheritance  
Beta: /  
Language: English  
Pairing: Eragon/Murtagh  
Rating: G  
Warnings: Slash, M/M-Relationship, Incest,  
Author's note: Written from Saphira's POV.  
Short summary: Sequel to „Trying to Forget", „Trying to Hide" and „Trying to Fly". It isn't that necessary to read them, but it makes this part more understandable.

Hi! It's me again, finally!

Sorry if this chapter is a little short for your liking, it's just that I, well, am not very interested in Eragon at the moment. I'm sure that will change sometime, but until this day comes, I won't spent that much time with my stories in the fandom. Sorry. I just didn't want to let my readers down finished this chapter. And I will surely write another one, too. (I'm halfway through it at the moment. It was originally planned to be the fourth chapter, but I decided otherwise...)

I also wanted to remind you of something: I am NO nativespeaker. And didn't find a beta-reader yet. So please forgive me my mistakes, I still have to learn a lot of things until my English is really well. If anyone finds mistakes, write me an E-Mail or a short message and tell me, it would help me to become better. If anyone wants to beta-read my stories, write me a message, too, please. Would love you for it. ;)

And now, have a lot of fun with this part of my series. Enjoy!

- - - - - - -

It was that kind of morning. Again.

Saphira had been awake for over two hours by now, while her rider and his new „company" were still sleeping. She smiled while thinking about the two. It had been hard weeks with lots of tears, but it had been worth it. The two finally found each other, although their way – together – was still covered with stones.

They hadn't told anyone yet, as far as she knew. And it had been two weeks since they began to trust each other. Saphira sighed and decided to fly around a little. She knew it was dangerous, very dangerous, but she needed to think. And to decide.

She was unsure how the Varden would react if they found out. For the two young men, it was simply normal, simply love. Nothing strange, just natural, something that was suppost to be like that. But would it be the same for the others? She didn't know any dragons to ask them about that theme. And she couldn't talk to humans, so she had absolutely no idea how this relationship could affect both of the boys.

What would be about Arya? Well, she would be happy, maybe. Elves weren't as strict with such things as humans, she was sure, but love between Morzan's son and the hero of Alagaesia? Saphira could already imagine what kind of discussions would begin if anyone found out.

„He will draw Eragon to Galbatorix, I'm sure!", „There will never be a child of the Morzan-Sibling, which is good, but no child of the Rider? What if he dies in a fight or, worse, if the son of Morzan kills him?!" , „He should marry a good, respectable woman, not the son of a coward!" , „I knew he is no good, but I didn't think the boy would be that stupid!" , „Maybe he tries to help Murtagh, maybe he triest to pull him into the light!" , „We can't trust him anymore!" And so on.

Saphira shuddered. This thoughts scared her, beyond what she felt while fighting enemies or anything else that was dangerous. Her Rider wouldn't take these comments well, and Murtagh would surely break up with Eragon, to protect him and not to make any more trouble. He wanted best for the younger man. It wouldn't be the best for him, though, and Eragon would surely die on the inside from it.

Then Saphira thought about the Varden. Nasuada would stand by their side. She was a nice, beautiful girl, kind and tender. She would understand and would be happy for the two, even after she liked Murtagh very much. The boys were almost as important as brothers for her. She would protect them as far as possible. She wouldn't ask any questions. She knew that Murtagh wasn't a bad guy and wouldn't let Eragon down.

What would the dwarves do? A few of them already seemed to hate Eragon and would surely use his love for Murtagh against him. But there were enough who liked Eragon, enough to accept his choice. Saphira just hoped it would be enough – and the right ones – not to cause any damage to Eragon's status and popularity.

She shook her head. Status? Popularity? That were the last thing she had to be scared about. Eragon would survive without a crowd of children and young women running after him, without the several men and women asking him for advice. She wasn't even sure if he really cared about them, now that she thought about it. He wouldn't get hurt from a few snarled comments and would those who didn't trust him put aside.

But he couldn't stand to let them talk about Murtagh, she was sure. He loved him, maybe even more than her. He would try to argue, to make all of them understand that Murtagh wasn't – and never would be – a coward. That just being the son of one didn't make someone a coward too. Would the people listen? Surely. Would they believe him? Half of them. And would they keep trusting him? Saphira shuddered.

It was impossible to tell how the people would react, what the would do, what they would think and say. She was scared, everything between accepting/cheering/letting them be and hating them/no more trusting Eragon/killing them was possible.

That moring, it was the first time that Saphira really cried. She screamed and prayed to the whole world noone would ever find out. Noone ever. Never.


End file.
